Somebody to Love
by Axenome
Summary: After the loss of all he loved, Naruto is alone. He goes through the motions, day by day, waiting for each tomorrow. But someone moves in on his floor.. and where it will lead is somewhere he never expected...
1. Chapter One: Nineteen

**Chapter One: Nineteen**

Nineteen.

One less than twenty. Nineteen is a prime number. Nineteen marbles can be arrayed into a perfect hexagon.

Nineteen. A year older than eighteen.

My name is Uzumaki Naruto, genin of Konohagakure and jinchuuriki of the Kyuubii no kitsune. Tomorrow morning, I will be nineteen.

Tomorrow morning is a happy occasion. But not for me. Tomorrow marks the end of an era.

Tomorrow morning, Haruno Sakura is getting married.

As of tomorrow, I will be- once again- alone.

--

I've been a full fledged shinobi of Konohagakure for seven years now. In this time I've seen dozens of misranked missions, invasion, and the downfall of all three Sannin. I've seen the deaths of two hokages, the destruction of Otogakure, the end of Akatsuki, and the extermination of the Uchiha family. I've seen the deaths of many friends. I've had victories and defeats and times when there were no victors, only survivors who limped back home to nurse their wounds and bury their dead. I've learned techniques of terrible power, mastered my father's signature jutsus, and in the bingo books of Iwagakure and Kusagakure, earned my father's "SS" entry- flee on sight.

As of tomorrow, I will have been a genin for seven years, and by the declaration of the Rokudaime Hokage, I will never be promoted to chunin. I have power and wiles and experience out of proportion with my rank and my years, but he says I simply will never be a leader. None would follow me. I've only formed close ties with a few ninja during my career, and most of them are now dead.

Only four of those remain who I would have called friend once- Nara Shikamaru, Yuuhi Kurenai, Maito Gai, and Haruno Sakura. Kurenai is still raising her son- Asuma's kid- alone, ever since Asuma died. So Kurenai has no time for me, now. Shikamaru and Temari are raising a daughter of their own in Sunagakure, and Shika is spending his time as an instructor in their academy. Gai sensei hasn't spoken to me since Lee died in a joint rescue mission for me from Akatsuki during the final days of the Akatsuki war two years ago. And now, Saukra only has a semi friendly relationship with me, one she's already told me is going to end completely once she's married. Her husband doesn't like me much; I can't even really blame him. He also works at the Konoha hospital, and he's had to deal with the injuries people around me tend to receive. I'm pretty sure he's afraid Sakura will end up with the same sort of thing if she keeps hanging out with me, if she lives through it.

It's night time, and my pillow is soft beneath the back of my head. My nose is sensitive, and I can smell my own sweat from the day's stress.

My floor of the building is quiet, much like it always is- nobody wants to live on the same floor I do. I close my eyes and wait for my world to end in the morning, knowing full well that it isn't going to. No matter how much I wish for it to change, it will simply... go on.

--

It is a Saturday. Sunlight pours onto my eyes- I wince and cover them. Suddenly, I open my eyes, realizing that today is, in fact, the day Sakura is getting married. I've been invited- grudgingly- to the wedding, and then only because Sakura insisted. It's my last chance to see my former team mate in anything other than from a long distance.

But then, that no longer really matters, does it? The flames of my infatuation with Haruno Sakura have long since burned down past the coals of affection, into the cold, grey ashes of indifferent resignation. Maybe today I'll just stay in instead of going to the wedding.

The Rokudaime Hokage has generously granted me the morning off from missions- I don't have to report in to him until one in the afternoon. During the lunch rush hour I'll get to travel to the Hokage Tower, feeling the eyes of the villagers on me, their gazes filled with awe, respect, fear... but not even a little genuine friendliness or like- nobody in Konoha is ever happy to see me.

I get up and fix myself breakfast- some noodles, diced cabbage, a chopped boiled egg, in a pan with a little oil. I add a spoonful or two of miso concentrate, let it simmer. After a few minutes I chop some pickled beets and carrots, then eat from the chopping board and pan. I don't really taste any of it- my mind is elsewhere. After I finish I toss the pan and board into the sink, then head to the shower.

I leave my pajama bottoms on the floor, unwrap the small bar of soap, and clean off the night's sweat and yesterday's stress. As I get out of the shower, I grab my towel, noticing that today, it is blue. I wonder vaguely which genin team is assigned to my apartment today.

The apartment is quiet, much like it always is on my floor- nobody wants to live on the same floor that I do. But then something strikes me as off, something both unfamiliar and yet recognizable- sounds, from the hallway outside my door.

My head is suddenly... fuzzy. As though there is something I should remember about the sounds, but then the thought is gone from my head as the sounds finally make a connection in my head. Furniture?

I walk to my front door, open it, look outside. The cool air of mid fall hits my damp skin, but I barely notice it in my shock.

Out in the hallway, there is the surprised face of a young woman with blonde hair, green eyes, and a bright, yellow flowered sundress. She's frozen in the process of trying to wrestle a four drawer dresser into a doorway maybe two doors down from mine on the other side of the hallway.

Nobody else lives on my floor. Nobody wants to live on the same floor as the Demon of Konohagakure.

She and I stare at one another for a few moments, and she is wearing a look on her face somewhere between shock and alarm. I finally get over my surprise, after a fashion. "Uh- did you... want help with that?" I say.

She blinks at me and answers, "Do you always offer help to strangers while you're only dressed in a towel?"

I look down at myself and yelp, and rush into my room, cursing as the towel comes slightly loose. I scramble for clothes in the closet to see what outfits have been laid aside for me.

Not like they leave me much to choose from. Black slacks, split-toed tabi, mesh shirt, black jacket. Never anything orange. Wearing black all the time would be depressing were it not for the fact that I don't feel anything much anymore but there are more pressing concerns on my mind than mere wardrobe. For the first time in my memory I have a new neighbor. I need to make a good impression.

I dress myself quickly, never mind the fact that I'm not completely dry, before I rush back out into the hallway. My hair is still wet.

The girl and her dresser are gone, now, but the doorway is still open. I can hear the sound of feminine profanity drifting out of the room- she has a mouth like a sailor.

I ignore the water dripping onto my shoulders from my hair as I go over and knock on her doorframe. "Uh, miss?" I begin, not certain what say. I settle for the truth. "It's me again. I'm sorry about that- I'm not used to people being on this floor."

The room I can see from here is still empty and open; I almost go in, but then the girl's voice shouts from the other room, "Go away, you pervert!"

That hurts me in a way I've not felt in a while- she hasn't seen me for more than a few minutes, and already she thinks I'm a pervert. And the worst part is I can understand why she might think that- why did I just rush out there in my towel? Out loud, I say, "Sorry to have bothered you. Ja mata," before I head back to my apartment.

Forget staying in. I'm going to go off and meditate someplace- it's about the only thing I have left to me to do in my spare time.

--

The sound of wind and the very distant rustling of the trees below me; usually they sooth me. Today, their sussurant whispers hold no comfort for me. I am seated in lotus position atop the head of the Sandaime Hokage at the Hokage monument. Sometimes I can find peace here, but not today, and after perhaps three and a half hours, I stop trying, opening my eyes and looking out over the village.

Below, from the village, the faint sound of cheers rises. Right now, Sakura has finished exchanging cups with her groom, and likely has kissed him, cementing their marriage. Marriage is short and solemn, a dignified affair. But my mind is on all the years I've spent at her side- the early days of team seven, the time between Sasuke's departure and my own, then my return after three years. The showdowns with Sasuke, Akatsuki, and the war with Iwa and Kusa.

We've had one another's backs, stood side by side, and faced off against everything thrown in our paths. We've fought together, cried together, shared joy and laughed and tried together. I've been everything she ever asked for- and now, she's marrying another man and I can't even bring myself to be upset over it. Somewhere along the way, I've learned what she perhaps knew all along- that we just weren't meant to be.

I cast my gaze out across Konoha and wonder just when it was that I discovered it was no longer recognizable to me. Konoha and everyone in it is a stranger to me now. And I, to them, am a weapon of mass destruction. I'm a comfort to them for the safety I provide, but I still frighten them. Deep down, they all want to forget I exist, in the dim hope that, if they avoid me long enough, I'll simply... fade away.

Not for the first time, and likely not for the last, I wish the Kyuubii were still here. The last vestiges of her personality vanished a year and a half ago as I finished absorbing the last of her power. She and I never much liked one another- especially since I am a male, as breeding amongst kitsune amounts to the strongest male overwhelming the female, essentially tantamount to rape. Being trapped in the body of a male must have been sheer torture for her, on top of the humiliation of her host being a human. And I never liked her because, being the host of a demon, it was literally her fault that my life has been hell. Even so, she was someone I could talk to, a unique being who I could interact with, that wasn't afraid of me.

I miss Ichiraku Ramen. They were a casualty of the fourth shinobi war, when Ayame and her father were kidnapped as leverage over the "Orange Flash" in an attempt to salvage their mounting losses, a desperate bid to prevent the total defeat of Kusagakure. One of their captors killed Ayame before I could rescue them; although I succeeded in freeing Teuchi, the old man killed himself a few weeks later in his grief.

I haven't made any new friends in a long time- it's hazardous to the health of anyone I associate with, simply because my power has made me many enemies. Mostly, if I find myself with free time, I sit up here, or else by the memorial stone, tracing familiar names with my fingertips until my tears run dry.

I open my hands and look at them. They are calloused, strong. They are hands that have been drowned in blood. Seven years of pain, death, and suffering. I've given my life over to being a shinobi of Konoha, and now, I sit looking over a village that doesn't want me, not even owning the clothes on my back. My pay for missions has done nothing but stack up, as there isn't really anything I want.

If I chose to, I could eat for free anywhere in Konoha- aside from actually being the proverbial eight hundred pound gorilla, the Hokage officially announced last year that in gratitude for my services to the village, he himself would pay my food bills for any eatery in the village.

I did so exactly three times before the stares and silence had gotten to be too much for me. Now I just cook for myself with whatever food the Hokage assigned a genin team to get for me. I don't have any real use for buying things just for the sake of having things. I don't buy my own food, or my own clothes. Even my mission weapons and gear are drawn from ANBU stores each mission. I'm free to keep any weapons or gear I choose... a privelege I don't bother exercising. A kunai is a kunai, a rope is a rope, shuriken are shuriken are shuriken the world around. All disposable. All alike. All can be made better with the application of time and money and effort and devotion but in the hands of one skilled enough it really doesn't matter if you are weilding a master crafted sword or just an oar carved into the shape of a blade.

I don't really own anything... and more and more I feel like an animal in a zoo, or perhaps a very well trained attack dog slowly pacing my kennel as I wait for my next mission each morning.

And the worst part about it is that I find myself caring less and less each morning that I wake up.

I don't really have to check the sun- the shadows already tell me what time it is- I have twenty minutes til I have to report to the Hokage for the afternoon. No real knowing where I will sleep tonight or how long duty will keep me from home, and I find I don't really care about that either.

Just one more day.

--

The Hokage is in a mood.

I know the signs. He starts by scratching at the the pad on his thumb with his middle fingernail on his left hand. After doing this, he'll rub his middle finger and index finger together on his right hand. After a few seconds of this, he'll nibble on the end of his fukimibari, frown as he realizes what he's doing, then he'll put the thing down on the desk. Then he'll start the whole cycle all over shortly thereafter. It's a nervous habit of his, he does it every time he's agitated, and you can measure exactly how upset he is by the interval between setting the needle down and scratching his thumb again.

He's really anxious about something right now; there's only about ten seconds between each cycle.

Hokage Ataru sighs. "Uzumaki Naruto." He pauses, then goes on, "As per our agreement I am informing you of one of your targets of extreme prejudice."

I feel a stab of excitement- real excitement. About the only joy left in my life is exacting retribution of those who are responsible for the loss of everyone that I held dear. There are only three of them left... who is it? Who will it be?

Ataru's voice provides the answer. "Hoshigaki Kisame has been sighted in Kusa no Kuni."

--

**End Chapter One**

-AN: This is the first chapter of a story I've been working on for a bit- Chapters are likely to be short for a while. Hope this story receives as good as a reception as Rogue Fox has.

I chose to cast this story in the first person almost on a whim- there was something about it that was bothering me when I wrote it out the first time. It felt a lot better when I reread it after the change.

C&C as you like- C&C being short for Comment and Critique.

Next chapter... A little deeper, a little darker, and a little visitation from an unexpected quarter.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


	2. Chapter Two: Visitor

Chapter Two: Visitor

It is a Teusday. Sunlight streams in the windows to land full on my eyes; I cover them with a forearm only to be forceably reminded that it's winter. The cold air outside the covers assaults my arm like a bucket of icewater and without thinking, I jam the arm back under the covers, only to receive another faceful of sunlight all over again. It's better than an alarm clock- I'm fully awake as I roll my head away from the window to look over my bedroom. It greets me emptily- there certainly isn't much in here to look at.

It's quiet- my upstairs neighbors are all gone, now, the last of them finally moving out a week or two ago. The top two floors of my building are all empty save for me and that girl who moved in two months ago.

The knock on my door jumps me out of the bed almost without any real thought- if ANBU is here this early in the morning I must be needed for some sort of an assignment. I grab the pair of pants I left on the floor from when I came in last night, yesterday's shirt, and tabi from the closet, before I shunshin to the door and answer it.

It's my new neighbor- that girl with the blond hair.

I blink at her stupidly for a minute before I poke my head out the door and look either way for the ANBU. Had I been too slow? They usually don't give up this quickly unless they get a summons back.

"Did you see which way the ANBU went?" I ask her.

She looks at me like I'm crazy, and after she speaks, I feel like I agree with her. "You don't get many visitors, do you?"

The confusion I'm feeling is probably plastered across my face. "I, uh, never get, um, visitors. Except ANBU when the Hokage needs me."

She gives me a little smirk as she raises an eyebrow, before her expression changes. She bites her lip and looks off to the side, like she doesn't want to look me in the eye. After a second, she looks back at me guiltily and says, "I wanted to... apologize. For calling you a pervert, before."

It takes me a moment to remember what she's talking about, then I recall her telling me to go away when I went to her door. It was months ago; I don't tend to like to remember the bad conversations I have. Or the ones where they treat me like a sleeping tiger.

I don't like to remember any conversations I have any more, not that I've had a lot of them to remember in the last couple of years. "Oh, that!" I say, laughing it off and scratching my head. Wish I'd had time for a shower before she came over- morning people make me feel inadequate. "Uh, yeah, sorry. You don't have to apologize, I mean, what kind of an idiot goes out to see a noise in a public hallway wearing only a towel?"

Her voice is soft but her words hit me like a boulder. "Someone who lives all alone on his floor of the building for a very long time."

My chest locks up; I''m having difficulty breathing. I know she's not from Konoha and I can't imagine why she would want to move here from wherever she came from but she's talking like she knows exactly who I am. I'd rather she thought of me as a pervert than as the Kyuubii container. It takes me a moment but I finally manage to choke out the words, "Who- how did you know that?"

"Building records." She answers with a bit of embarassment. "I, uh, was trying to find out how long the flasher had been living here."

I wince, remembering the towel slipping as I ran back into my apartment. I want to crawl into a box and hide. She evidently picks up on it; her next words are more cheerful. "My name is Tsubasa. I'd like to start over. I know I made a bad impression before but I'd like to change that, I'd like us to be friends."

My voice fails me at the sound of the word friends. I haven't had any in a long time- bad things happen to my friends, and the more I like someone the worse happened to them. This girl seems too nice to put that kind of fate on. "I think you should go now." I say in a whisper, looking away from her.

I can feel the hurt from my answer; out of the corner of my eye I see her nod slowly, before turning away and walking down the hallway to her door. I find my sight drawn to her as she walks- she's balanced and graceful, not so much like a ninja but more like someone who has a great deal of practice at walking on a surface that can turn suddenly unstable. She opens her door and walks inside, closing it behind her without looking in my direction.

I didn't want to hurt her feelings- I feel like a first class jerk. I stand at my doorway cursing at myself for a minute before I go back inside.

It's early, yet- ordinarily I'd go back to sleep for another forty five minutes or so but now going back to sleep just isn't going to happen. I go to my shower, step out of yesterday's clothes, unwrap the little bar of soap.

My towel is white, today. I dry off, my mind still on Tsubasa.

I go back to the closet and pull on the full bodysuit left there, pull on the black jacket, the head back out to the bathroom and put the tabi slippers back on.

I go into my kitchen- it smells slightly of citrus. I rather like this smell, today, although I'm not entirely certain why. The smell is still there because when I came in last night, I wasn't hungry. I don't feel particularly hungry right now, either, but I open the fridge anyways. I pull out a small package of tofu, some seaweed and vegetables, start a pot of rice, and pull out a chopping board. While the rice cooks I quickly dice up the stuff I took out of the fridge and toss them into a frying pan with a little oil. After it heats up a bit I add a little bit of Miso stock and the half cooked rice along with a little water.

I wait, letting the concoction stew, untils it smells right, and then I take it off the heat.

I eat mechanically, like stoking a fire, not really tasting the food or noticing much about it. My mind instead keeps wandering back to Tsubasa, the hurt in her eyes and the life in her blonde hair. The shy smile she gave me as I answered the door, the apology in her green eyes as she admitted she'd jumped to conclusions, how ever logical they might have been at the time, and the pain she felt when she thought I wanted nothing to do with her. Part of me wants to go to her room door, knock, and apologize for being a jerk.

Then I remember Akatsuki, remember Iwagakure, remember what happened to Lee, and Ayame, and Ino, and so many others, whose only crime was believing in me- and I die a little more inside at the thought of this innocent stranger lying broken in a canyon like Ayame. And the urge to go down the hallway dies as well, and I feel more like a fool for even having entertained the thought of a friend again.

I realize suddenly that the pan is empty; I hadn't really expected to eat it all. I give the empty pan a glare that I already know is rather ridiculous, feeling betrayed by both it and my stomach for being able to eat despite my melancholy train of thoughts.

After tossing the pan in the sink, I turn to leave the kitchen, but something makes me pause. I feel... unsettled. Uncomfortable. It takes me a moment to realize why, but after a moment it occurs to me that the kitchen doesn't feel right.

My actions are unsteady, uncertain, but I find myself opening the cabinet beneath the sink and pulling out a sponge- fresh, clean, new, it is soft and dry in a fashion that only a brand new sponge ever is, with no trace of stiffness or the slight film of greasiness that a sponge has after even one use. The sponge is quickly wetted down, and I clean off the stove where the inevitable cooking spills always happen. It's better, now, but still not right, and I know why after I lean forward and sniff the stove- it still smells like miso. I don't know why, but that bothers me, and I try to turn away but something in the corner of my mind won't allow me to wrestle myself away from the stove until I fix it.

I go back under the sink and retrieve the bottle with the lemon and orange on the label and reclean the stove thoroughly. By the time I am done the kitchen once again smells of citrus and I am satisfied in some obscure way. I no longer feel like I should be ashamed of the mess I left behind, and as soon as the thought occurs to me, I chastise myself for my silliness. I won't be getting any visitors, and certainly not any blonde ones with green eyes- the only people who would see it are the genin who would be hired to clean the apartment anyways.

I feel better about it anyways, so I suppose that is an improvement. I toss the sponge into the sink and head to the Hokage tower.

--

I didn't need to hurry- Ataru seems to not even notice me as I come in. I calmly take my seat and wait as he reads a proposal or maybe a petitioned mission of some sort. After a while he stamps it, jots something in the margin on the bottom, and files it in a tray on his desk- the stack in that tray is much smaller than the stack in the tray next to it, from which he takes the next bunch of stapled pages. He repeats the process as though I'm not here. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to see that I am more important than whatever is in his "In" tray. Really.

No sarcasm.

At all.

I hear the clock ticking on the wall as well as the slight rustle of paper as he finishes reading this one, too. He scribbles something on the final page before tossing the pages onto a pile that has no tray of its own. After this he slowly looks at me, and I notice the tell tale twitching of his thumb as he begins scratching at it, before the opposite hand starts rubbing fingers together. I get to a six count before the fukimibari reaches his lips- he almost immediately sets the needle down. He's anxious.

"Uzumaki." When he finally speaks, his voice holds all the friendly warmth of a bowl of ice cubes. I find myself comparing the tone of his voice to that of Tsubasa earlier before I forceably shove the girl's face out of my mind's eye.

I answer with every ounce of decorum at my disposal, anything to get my mind off of... things I shouldn't be thinking about. "Yes, Hokage sama?"

Ataru doesn't bat an eye at the uncharacteristic use of the 'sama' honorific. "I have a mission for you. The daimyo's nephew is going into Ame no Kuni. As you know, the whelp is still firmly convinced of his own prowess in combat, and it is- still- entirely in his own mind. As usual he his rejecting the presence of his bodyguard, so your mission is the same as the last three times." Scratch. "Follow him discreetly, do not permit any harm to befall his person. Do not be seen by him." Rub. "His stay is expected to last ten days, plus four days each way for travel."

Ataru puts the fukimibari in his mouth as he stands up. "That covers the official portion of the briefing. The unofficial portion is as follows. The Daimyo requested you by name. He also ordered that you not be informed of this request, simply that you be given the mission. It is my belief based on this and other information that the Daimyo is either under duress, or else has chosen to betray Konoha, and in either case this mission is with the sole intent of seeing to your elimination. Consequently, you are receiving back up that will shadow you. Your support team will be Maito Gai, Hyuuga Hanabi, and Yamanaka Inoichi."

My attention is completely her and now, as I keep my face carefully neutral while I consider this information. Of the three, Hyuuga Hanabi is the only one who harbors no active grudge against me for the death of someone close to them... but her clan might yet insist on her avenging her family, since the Hyuuga had lost not one but two members of their family that had fought alongside me. Either Ataru is being incredibly naive in assigning this particular trio to guard my back, or else he is TRYING to get me killed.

I choose to remove any possible ambiguity from the conversation in an abruptness that heralds back to an earlier time, when I was all impulsiveness and cheer and hope. Apparently, the impulsiveness is all that survived of that foolish kid I once was. "Should my waiting ambushers ahead fail to kill me, the team you assigned might well decide to finish the job."

Ataru pins me to my chair with a look laced with contempt and indignation. "And who am I supposed to send with you in their stead?" He demands levelly. "I am fully aware of the personal axes each of these ninja have to grind with you. But they are the only active duty ninja in the village who will even consent to be in your presence in any kind of a supporting role. No-one- not even ANBU- is willing to go on a mission with you, because of your reputation for being bad luck. And I wouldn't either, not because of bad luck but because trouble, deadly trouble, dogs your heels at every turn. And when it arrives you are the only one who is equipped to handle it and any who stand at your side almost inevitably end up as collateral damage. Those three are a considerable force and might come up handy in a pinch. I have given you the safeguarding of their presence as best I could provide and gave you warning OF their presence in case they prove weaker in their duty than in their hate. You're an ungrateful bastard, after all the things we've done, I've done, to keep you alive and safe. Your mission begins tomorrow at dawn, so get the fuck out of my sight. Don't be anywhere I have to look at you until the mission is complete. Dismissed."

My ears burn at the dressing down, my anger sharper for the fact that at least part of what he said is true. I mentally curse myself for even opening my mouth as I stand up and leave the room silently. It doesn't occur to me until after I left that upon my outburst and his subsequent reply he never scratched his thumb, rubbed his fingers, or chewed at his ever present fukimibari- not even once.

I'm not certain what I feel about this or even if I should have noticed it at all.

But I vow to keep my guard up on the mission just the same.

End Chapter Two

-AN: That's chapter two. And I seem to have a bad habit of stating the obvious.

This story is going to have a decidedly different style than I have used for Rogue Fox. For one, we won't be doing a day by day or week by week approach. Instead, the story will take place in snap shots, small samples of what is happening in his life as Naruto encounters changes occuring in his life and outlook whether he wants to see these changes or not.

R&R as you like. Thanks for reading.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


	3. Chapter Three: Memory

**-Note: **Thanks to Cory for spotting a discrepancy- I was tired last night when I was writing out that portion and I forgot which family Inoichi belonged to.

**Chapter Three: Memory**

Sunlight streams in the open window curtains to fall full on my face. I groan and pull the covers over my head.

It is a Saturday. From out in the hall, I can barely make out some sound- a woman's voice, singing something I can't quite make out clearly.

For some reason, that singing- if it can rightly be called singing; the woman can no more carry a tune than I can- awakens something in me that mere sunlight can't. The moment her voice registers in my ears, my eyes are wide open. The song is painful and lovely to me at the same time and I can't for the life of me imagine why- I've heard more tuneful noises from Tora chan, the cat belonging to the Daimyo's wife.

That Tsubasa woman is insane.

Despite the fact that I've barely acknowledged her, never bothered to make much in the way of niceties, usually even going out of my way to avoid her, whenever she sees me she still greets me with that damned smile that's brighter than sunshine and can lift my spirits no matter what the rest of my day has been like. No matter what I try to tell myself I can't help liking her smile. Every time I see her, she's a dab of brilliant color on a sheet of grey canvas.

I hate myself more every time I see her when I realize I'd been hoping she'd show up one more time.

Winter is giving way to spring, now. I can still feel the cold bite of the air but somehow it's losing its teeth. I stretch, sitting up in bed, and feel my back pop.

Outside in the hallway, Tsubasa continues to sing. I realize with horror that I'm smiling a little; I feel a wave of disgust with myself at my weakness and force a scowl onto my face, berating myself for my stupidity.

I walk into the bathroom, step into the shower. Then, the smell of mildew hits me, and suddenly I'm remembering a month ago, as I lay stunned in the forest floor after my final collision with the leader of the ambushers, surrounded by the scent of moss and mildew, Inoichi attempting to kill me with his mind control jutsus, Hanabi sealing off his tenketsu and holding him off, and Gai standing frozen off to the side, uncertain as to which side he should choose.

I shake off the fugue and turn the cold water on, suppressing a shout as I feel the icy cold water douse my face and chest. I open my mouth, gargle, and spit, the hard water washing the phantom taste of blood from my mouth, and open my eyes slightly. Runnels of chill worm down my legs as the cold makes me forget how to breathe, but then I turn on the hot water. The cold has done its job; the images have receded. I unwrap the tiny bar of soap and lather up, rinse off, ridding myself of the night sweat. I rinse out my mouth once more, again trying to rid myself of the taste- the taste of hate and fear and discomfort of those whom I've only ever sought to protect and be recognized by.

I shut off the water. Stepping out, I see my towel today is green. My earlier good cheer is gone; I get dressed, go into the kitchen and open the fridge. A carton of orange juice, a package of bean jam dango- must have been Kuru's team. Kuru is almost as much of a dango addict as Anko is... was. I pull out a package of bacon and some brown and serve rolls as well. Odd selection of rather exotic foods in my fridge today- definitely Kuru's team.

I munch the dango slowly as I cook up all the bacon, flipping it every ten seconds to keep it from curling up until it is done. As each pair of slices cooks I toss them onto a paper towel and then eat the pair that were there before, while I put in the next ones. Between eating slices I drink my orange juice, and I discover rather quickly that I love the smokey overtones mixed with the brown sugar the bacon was cured with. I toss the rolls in the oven, and then force myself to save the last six pieces of bacon for the rolls when they finish cooking- several minutes of hell. The rolls are done; I take them, the last stick of dango, the six slices of bacon, and the half empty carton of orange juice to the card table I brought from an ANBU store room, long forgotten. It's seen better days, but I find it helps me to sit down and eat, rather than standing up- for some reason breakfast sits better in my stomach that way. Cool pats of butter, still melting in the hot rolls annoint my tongue between bites of bacon- I haven't enjoyed eating a meal like this in... a long time.

I sweep up the crumbs off my plate with my thumb before popping them in my mouth, along with the last bite of roll and bacon, both cooled now to just above room temperature. Washing down the mouthful of crumbs, bacon, and roll with the last swallow of orange juice from the carton, I sit back and relax a moment- feeling full from food I enjoyed, relaxed- I feel pretty good again. Then it strikes me that my damned neighbor- that lunatic woman- is still singing out in the hall. And that she has been the whole while I was eating.

I shake my head in slight annoyance with myself, ruefully amused that a large part of my enjoyment stemmed from the fact I was hearing her voice through the whole breakfast. I don't bother to scold myself again- Baa-chan must have felt like this. No matter how many times she yelled at me, I was too stubborn to change some things- like calling her baa-chan. Heh. I can't even control me once I set my mind to something.

I clean the oven and stove quickly and thoroughly before washing all my dishes and leaving them drying on the rack.

Finally ready, I open the door to my apartment, and what I see on the floor stops me in my tracks. There is a vivid, dayglow orange tulip there. Underneath, I quickly discover, there is a note attached, that reads, "I am a cute little flower and would look better in a vase or a jar in your kitchen rather than on the floor of some dusty old hallway!" After this sickeningly exuberant message, there is a tiny heart drawn.

I stare at the flower, then at the note, before finally looking down the hallway to Tsubasa's door. She's peeking out from the partially open doorway- no longer singing, but she has the weirdest... cute? little smile. She sticks her tongue out at me, then wiggles her fingers at me in an impudent little wave before slipping back in her apartment and closing her door.

I'm frozen like this for several seconds after she's gone, still staring at her door dumbfounded. Finally, I take the orange flower back into my apartment. Maybe it WOULD look good on my kitchen sink.

At least it's orange.

--

I'm crouching in front of the memorial stone. Once again my fingers trace the outline of names I knew. Familiar ones, each of them. As I trace their lines I see their faces. Hinata's gentle eyes and shy smile. Kiba's toothy grin. Kakashi and that damned book of his.

I shudder at the thought that Tsubasa might meet the same end that they did. Some of them, dying to defend me or fight side by side with me. Some of them dying simply because they were close to me, and that made them a target. Tsubasa's name would never be on that stone, another civilian victim of the Kyuubii and those who wish to control it. Even if it doesn't exist anymore.

I feel eyes on me suddenly- it's a familiar person, someone who I'm not threatened by- so not one of my many enemies. But it's also someone who I don't frighten- there is not even anxiety, just a small bit of wistfulness.

Tsubasa.

"So do you come here all the time?" she asks me.

I debate answering before I finally give in. "Every day I'm in Konoha, this is my first stop before I go to see the Hokage."

She steps forward. Her hand reaches out to touch the stone, fingers moving past where mine have already been. She stops on Kakashi's name. "Who was this?"

I look over at her- she looks sad. "What's wrong?" I ask her in reply.

Tsubasa simply looks at me, before gently answering, "I don't like seeing that you're hurting with nobody to talk to."

I look away from her. "He was my teacher. He was my jonin sensei when I first became a ninja."

"What was he like?" She asks me.

Kakasahi... what he was like. A thousand words spring to mind, only to be drowned out by a thousand more. Skilled ninja, strength, cornerstone of Konoha, expert infiltrator, ex anbu- all of these only scratch the surface of my former teacher. "He was... different." I finally say. "And he was precious to me."

I don't really know what else to add. Tsubasa doesn't press me for more. She stands next to me as I crouch, the two of us all but motionless as the soft breeze moves past us, each of us trapped in our own thoughts.

A few minutes pass like this in, if not comfortable, at least not uncomfortable silence.

The shadows tell me it is time to leave, and I wonder what these people would be doing, what I would be doing, had they lived. I miss them every day. Something in me tells me that Tsubasa understands.

With a last sigh and ache in my heart, my hands touch the memorial stone as I stand up from my crouch.

"I have to go now." I say. She doesn't answer, and after a moment, I do.

Time to go see the Hokage.

And I hope I'll be back again some time this week.

--

Monday. The sunlight is likely streaming in my bedroom window again; it's landing on an empty pillow.

I've been awake for an hour already, deliberately tuning out the sound of that crazy woman's voice, as I wander the rooms of my apartment and realize how empty it is. Devoid of personality, of life, of anything resembling cheer. Drab, off white. Minimal anything.

I've been drifting, I suddenly understand. Letting things happen around me, going through the motions like an automaton. Being a nice little jinchuuriki puppet while my strings are pulled and I dance my deadly dance on whomever I'm instructed to but not really much paying attention to where or how I live.

The Hokage won't be expecting me for another two hours- I run from my apartment, with motivation and a small pittance of my saved up cash from all the missions I've run over the last few years, and head to a paint store.

The land lord hasn't come by my place in years so it's not like he's gonna complain anyhow.

--

The Hokage looks me over while chewing at his fukimibari anxiously. For some odd reason I have his full attention- and for some odd reason I don't much care.

I'm the one not paying full attention to him, for once, since he's not really done with what he was reading, and I occupy myself picking at an orange spot on my shirt- one the exact shade as all of the other spots of orange spattering me, matching exactly the color I painted my bedroom this morning with a half dozen Kage Bunshin assisting.

I suddenly realize he said something- I look up at him. "Hmm?"

The Hokage growls softly, not bothering to take the fukimibari out of his mouth before he starts scratching at the pad on his thumb. "I said," He grinds out between clenched teeth, "Would you care to explain yourself?"

I ponder this carefully for a minute- Does he mean why am I distracted? Does he mean why am I covered in paint? Is he asking why I suddenly am making decisions about what is going on around me? Is he wondering why I'm even acknowledging Tsubasa's presence, or why I accepted her flower?

He's growing impatient as I think, and I suddenly realize the truth- what his question is, it doesn't really matter, so long as I do my missions to the best of my ability, it's none of his fucking business. Yet I know he's worried, not for me, but for the security of the village against me. He doesn't have anything to worry about, but still...

Let him fucking stew.

"No, Hokage, I really wouldn't." I answer. "You had a mission for me?"

**End Chapter 3**

-AN: Well, I'm back.

I apologize for the long delay on both this story and Rogue Fox, and I have some bad news for you all: In-so-far as Rogue Fox goes, it's on hold for the next month or so while I rewrite the first nine chapters. The rewrite, in fact, may very well extend those first chapters to twelve or more, with an interlude or two thrown in. But the story will be better for it, I'll hopefully get all the holes plugged, and I might actually make these stories of mine hit an audience out there who like them with the sort of fanatical devotion given to some of the other fics I've seen out there.

Since I dislike the idea of posting an author note "Chapter" this is likely the only warning I'll really be able to give anyone. Of course, my mind might change tomorrow or I might feel motivated to post one of the next three chapters of Rogue Fox that currently resides in my notebooks (Incidentally, it encompasses as of yesterday over five hundred(500) hand written pages) you all might see that within the next few weeks before the rewrite gets put up, but that's only a maybe. And it's all fairly dependant on my powers of focus and concentr- Oh look, a butterfly.

Next time: Hiraishin, Washing Machines, and Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Ja Mata.

-AXENOME


	4. Chapter Four: Bearing Gifts

**Chapter Four: Bearing Gifts**

Sunlight almost certainly streams through my bedroom window right now; it lands on an empty bed.

I'm in my living room, such as it is, cleaning the tools of my trade absently while I ponder the Hokage.

Before he became Hokage, few people had heard the name "Ataru." Even now, he doesn't use a last name. A few people have whispered that he is an outcast from a clan; others that he is an orphan and doesn't know who his family is. Still others think that he was captured as a child from another village and raised here as Konoha by a nameless family.

I think people needlessly complicated things. It doesn't really matter why- it's nobody's choice but his own. And despite his cold attitude and the scornful, demeaning way he tends to address me, I find I respect him still, as Hokage, if not on a personal level. And I respect him for a very simple reason:

Every decision I've ever seen him make is based on what he feels is best for Konoha. For all that he lacks the warmth and paternal air of Old Man Sandaime, the notoriety of the Yondaime, or the lovable irrascibility of the Godaime, he still possesses in spades the defining characteristic of every Hokage that has come before him: The will to place the village and its people first, to fight to his own death to protect it. To me, that's worth any amount of personal humiliation.

Konoha is MY town- it's where I grew up, and about all I've ever really known. I've stayed here because, while I didn't have a particularly GOOD childhood, there had still been good parts, parts made all the sweeter by how rare they were. Good memories, good friends who I still honor in my heart. For those friends and those memories I will fight for Konoha still.

It's these thoughts that help keep my mind off of what I have to do right now.

This last mission was brutal. In the end I killed fourteen chunin, five jounin, and an uncertain number of genin in something that had been originally intended as an assassination and had- through inadequate information or deliberate misinformation- turned into a bloodbath of horrific proportions. The worst of it was the civilian deaths, people used as human shields in an attempt to cow me into standing down instead of completing my mission. They weigh on my mind the heaviest; at least the shinobi could fight back. Except... against me, none of them really CAN fight back.

I examine one of the kunai I'm less than effectively trying to clean, one of the ones with my modified version of the Hiraishin seal I'm experimenting with again. I've expanded on my father's work, creating a secondary sub-seal I've attached to my combat vest that, when charged with chakra, reverses the flow effect of the inverse summon seals of the kunai to retrieve them from wherever they've landed and teleport any or all of them to their holsters in the vest.

It was a brilliant piece of work, a fantastic concept, and I'd executed it rather nicely. I tested it endlessly, ensuring there were no side effects, no seal degradation over time or reuse, no failures, before I tested it in battle in this last mission. And still, somehow, an aspect of the seal made itself unpleasantly known.

The kunai, and their holsters, are now caked and soiled with blood, flesh, bone, and less pleasant substances, much of which has dried into a crusty, gruesome crud. It's going to take me weeks to clean this stuff off the vest.

Hmmm... Maybe I could modify the seal so the jutsu won't bring back anything but metals?

No... there's iron in blood, so that wouldn't work. Modify the kunai to allow nothing to adhere to them?

Ugh. That'll take weeks, maybe even months of research. And it'll probably be both expensive and time consuming. An awful lot of effort to put into what- even with the hiraishin seal- is essentially a disposable weapon.

I miss a stroke with the pumice stone, scouring it across the seal by accident and rendering the kunai useless for the hiraishin. As I examine the seal, I note with irony the reverse summon I'd placed on it will work just fine with what remains of the seal, but attempting to summon myself to the thing would be an exercise in futility. I can redo the seal- but that will take about twenty minutes, and I'll have to rescribe the secondary seal in the process, another fifteen minutes. Better than a half hour of rescribing, assuming no mistakes, all because I lost focus and rushed a five minute pumice scouring.

A spike of disgust washes over me as I toss the thing over my shoulder. It hits the floor behind my couch with a thunk and clatter; I lean back against my couch in frustration. I COULD, of course, summon a bunch of Kage Bunshin to clean these things... but I'd remember every tedious moment of the job as soon as I dispelled them. And in all honesty, I have no real reason to hurry about it, nor am I as comfortable with the technique as I once was. Too many drawbacks, too many things have gone... odd, with the jutsu. It's a forbidden technique for a reason. I settle for grumbling softly to myself instead, not even forming fully coherent words or sentences in my ire.

Something wafts across my nose, cutting through my irritation and tapping on a long subdued memory. It's a vapor of air laden with a hint of sweetness- melted chocolate?

Barely a second after the scent registers on my mind, there is a knock on the door. The smell of chocolate is stronger now, mixed with the aroma of sugar and slight undertones of baking soda. A curious mix of anticipation and apprehension hits me- it couoldn't possibly be...

Crap. Visitor. I suddenly realize that someone is at my door, and my living room is strewn with tools from work. Dirty, used tools. I grab my vest, activate the seal, and watch as the various kunai teleport themselves back to their holsters.

At least, cleaning up will be faster this way.

Perhaps that's my solution- Maybe I should make a bag with the summoning seal to teleport the used weapons into, then I can toss the whole thing into the washer when I get back home? That's a thought- just get a bag, affix the seal, problem solved...

The knock comes from the door again, and I scramble to toss the vest into my bathtub. A quick shunshin to my door, and I open it- and much as I'd half expected, it is my neighbor- my crazy, pushy neighbor, Tsubasa.

"Uh, Hi." She says.

I barely notice her words, and have no attention to spare to formulate a response; my eyes are locked on what she carries in her hands. A plate, easily ten inches wide, laden with a hefty pile of hot, fresh chocolate chip cookies.

I can see how perfect they are- still soft, the chocolate melty and rich, the cookies golden brown, succulent. They smell like decadent iniquity. And I am very much a sinner.

For a fleeting moment, I wonder if Tsubasa is single. Two thoughts over ride this immediately, the first being that the idea is ludicrous. A friendly, beautiful young woman like her? Single? As if.

And the second is that being who and what I am, I have no business taking interest in any women in Konoha.

"Are you going to let me in?" She asks, and my eyes dart back up to her face as I remember she's been standing out here in front of my place while I stared at her cookies for... however long I've been drooling over them. Hopefully not too long.

"Uh," I say brightly, but she starts talking again before I can think of a suitable reply.

"You can't eat them if you're standing out here. Well, you can, but you'll enjoy them more if you're sitting down while you eat them with a nice glass of milk. At least, I do. Because cookies are good with milk. Oh hell, I'm babbling."

"Uh, sure." I say, finally re-engaging my vocal cords to my brain. "Come on in." My confusion is understandable in retrospect- my favorite exotic desert being brought to my door after the mission I just got back from is a rather jarring experience. And I don't even know this woman very well but I'm liking her even more- no, bad thought. Bad thought.

As I step backwards to allow her room to enter, Tsubasa does so, before looking around in the manner of a person entering an unfamiliar house. "Um... Kitchen?" She says.

I could smack myself. "Yeah, uh, right this way."

--

The two of us are sitting at my kitchen table. Most of the cookies are gone; likewise the jug of milk is almost empty next to the plate.

I'm only nibbling at the latest cookie in my hand right now; Tsubasa has been all over the place and the stories she has to tell are amazing. "... so when my father finally retired, I had the opportunity to take the helm of the Merry Gull, but after Mother died, I'd already been ship's brat for twelve years and wanted a change. And women don't do too well as ship captains, or owners, for that matter. Too many men who spend too much time at sea without even the sight of a woman- it's an environment where murders take place over a woman's smile. So I sold the ship to the Navigator after talking with Dad about it, and the Navigator still owes me about sixty percent. But even if I never see another ryo of it I could live here off the interest of what I have alone."

I rub my chin and ask the question that comes to mind. "But I don't get it- if you have all that money, why would you get some dinky little apartment?"

Tsubasa laughs at me- not in a mean way, and somehow, knowing that she isn't being mean takes the sting out of my ignorance. "Little? You've never been on a ship have you? That apartment is huge compared to a crew berth on a ship. Since all I had besides the clothes on my back were the contents of my duffle- about half of which was a few more sets of clothes- All I really needed was a studio apartment. But... I like having separate rooms. So I bought my place instead."

I internalize this for a moment as I pop the last nibble of cookie in my mouth, then reach for another one. I heft the jug of milk experimentally. Not much left. I raise an eyebrow at Tsubasa, who looks at the milk jug and bites her lip, before regretfully shaking her head. I smirk and pour the rest of the milk into her glass anyways.

"I said I didn't want any more!" She protests.

I grin back at her. "No you didn't. You shook your head- how am I supposed to know what that means?"

"You knew what I meant!" She counters, glaring sternly at me.

I've been glared at by pros; she doesn't even hold a candle to Ino, much less Tsunade baa chan. "So? You didn't really mean it."

"What are you, a mind reader now?" She asks, the glare still there, but a hint of a smile is breaking through.

I shrug. "Well, you were trying to be nice and let me have the last of the milk, but you really did want more. I don't need to be a Hyuuga to see that. And since your my guest, what am I supposed to do?"

"So accept the nice I'm trying to be!" She answers, but the glare is gone completely now, with a smile of her own that I'm really coming to enjoy far too much.

"Nah. Maybe when I'm at your place." I stop, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as I discover I'm hoping she'll invite me over some time. No, I should just keep this on a friends level. Change the subject. "What I want to know, though, is how you got chocolate chips- or how you know a recipe for chocolate chip cookies. They're not common or cheap out here, they come from far to the east, across the ocean, or something."

Tsubasa looks a bit startled, before she answers, "Uh, hello? Ship's brat, and all that? You see stuff from everywhere come onto a ship. And I still have my connections, you know."

I feel like a first class moron- it's a very nostalgic feeling. "Oh yeah. I guess you would, wouldn't you?"

--

She takes the plate with her as she goes. My eyes follow the sway of her hips as she walks away for a few seconds longer than is safe- I need to get this out of my head. She and I are friends, nothing more. And for her safety it has to be utterly secret, nobody can know about it. Meaning I have to impress on her as soon as possible just how dangerous it is to be associated with me. I'll show her the memorial stone tomorrow.

Memorial stone- I still haven't gone there today. But I just got back last night. I should be tired, but instead I'm feeling mellow and relaxed, not sleepy at all.

And I'm late for my debriefing with Ataru.

I curse under my breath as I realize I'm not going to have enough time to finish cleaning my gear, much less visit the stone. I head to the bathroom and turn on the water, letting the whole mess soak, before I pour a cup of bleach into the water. That should kill off anything making the smell and might loosen up the garbage in the process.

Off to see the Hokage. I'll visit the stone tomorrow instead.

I think they'll understand.

**End Chapter Four**

AN: Two months... so much has happened and I've been very busy, trying to rewrite the first six chapters of Rogue Fox. The time just kind of ran away with me, I guess. So I apologize for my VERY long delay. I am pleased to add that Rogue Fox has another two and a half chapters of rewrite to go before I can put those first chapters out, but I hesitate to do so, because EVERYTHING that follows will need a dose of reworking in the process. So I'm thinking that while I try to resolve this I will put out my subsequent chapters that have been mouldering away in notebook number four for the last two months.

I formally apologize for this tardiness. I will try to get the next chapter of Rogue Fox up by tomorrow night, and to all those whose readership I've lost due to this gap in time, I understand your impatience. I'll try to do better, honest!

For those of you who are wondering, Somebody to Love is going to have a dark ending- in fact, the story has TWO endings. Both of whcih are somewhat depressing and in a lot of ways deeply disturbing (Although each is disturbing in a different fashion). If you have the patience, the will, and the desire to know how the story ends, I advise you to read on. But I ask you humbly to not be angered by the ending, for in my writer's ethic, both stories are equally valid- and this tale could really end no other ways.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


	5. Chapter Five: Time Off

**Author's Additional Note:** Re-edit back to what it was supposed to be- I was listening to some very angry music as I was rewriting this, so Ataru came off as far more abusive than he really should have. Proper conversation and tone has been reinstated, and thanks to Rakeeshj4 for pointing out this break in character. Was supposed to be a conversation in which his taking Naruto for granted was underscored, not outright antagonistic and abusive.

**Chapter Five: Time Off**

It's a Tuesday.

Sunlight streams in the window onto bare floor. Ambient light picked up off the walls- barely painted two months ago, now- suffuses my room with a warm, gentle glow.

My bed now sits across the room from the window- not so very far to move it, of course, but the idea of doing so simply hadn't occured to me until only recently, and it was a week before I had the courage to act on it. Now instead of bright light shining full into my face, a more gentle light slowly rouses me from sleep as the light reflects from my floor and walls, and my first sight each morning as I wake up is my favorite color. I should have done this a long time ago.

I'm not certain why I was so hesitant, now, except simply that it had always been right there, next to the window. Often times we won't act on something simply because we're afraid of change. Much like many discomforts in my life- I left it that way because that was the only way I'd ever known. It's a metaphor, I'm discovering, for many forms of discomfort I've been living with in my life for so long. Most of it I've had the power to act on, except I'd never known how- no one has ever explained to me that I could take control of my life. All my life I've been buffeted by events outside of my control, all of my life I've been reacting because I've never been shown I have another choice. It took getting to know Tsubasa to understand that I didn't have to wait for my next orders or wait for the next thing to happen to me.

If I'd known back in the early days what I know now... perhaps I could have saved them. Some of them, at least. I could have taken steps.

I get up, I shower, I eat. I don't even remember what color my towel is by the time I get in the kitchen. And my whole house is being maintained much as my kitchen- those D rank genin missions are becoming pretty easy for whoever takes care of my place while I'm gone.

I visit the stone and apologize to my friends, before I head to the Hokage tower.

--

My apathy, my passivity aren't the only things I've been losing. I've also begun losing my customary deference to the Hokage- along with much of my former respect. That, and I've lost tolerance for the casual disregard and taking for granted that I'm treated with by the Hokage, a fact that is not lost on Ataru or the three members of ANBU that are looking on as he and I speak at this very moment.

Today's conference is... Strained.

"I believe it to be unnecessary." Ataru tells me. Rub fingers, scratch thumb, nibble. Set the fukimibari down. Rinse and repeat.

I tilt my head to the side, knowing how much my distaste for his beliefs shows in my face. "Do you." I respond. I don't speak it as a question. "I happen to disagree."

"You are not in need of days off." Ataru answers as though I hadn't spoken. "Never has your pace of missions affected your performance, and you are a very necessary-"

I cut him off. "Necessary my ass. You've been handing me 'C' rank missions for two weeks. I know we have good enough genin teams that they can handle these, or at worst we might be restricted to a couple of chunin." I narrow my eyes at him as my jaw clenches; I force it to relax as I continue. "The village isn't going to stop moving if I stop pedalling for a day."

Ataru shoots to his feet, as the ANBU in the room tense. "How dare you. No shinobi in this village has ever asked to be excused from duty so frivolously-" Ataru's eyes are a deadly glare that would have most genin or even chunin shaking and repentant, but it doesn't even faze me. I've been glared at by better and worthier, and for much better reason. He's got nothing on Tsunade baa-chan.

I stop him in his tracks. "No other shinobi in this village has ever been worked without rest the way I have. In the entire time you've been Hokage I've not had a single twenty-four hour period to myself. Any other shinobi not on extended mission is FORCED to take a day off at least once in two weeks, if not more, at the discretion of their immediate superior."

"That rule is in place to prevent the overwork and degradation of our shinobis' performance on mission and the integrity and quality of their social life." He counters, although I can see the guilt is starting to creep in around the edges. Probably why he's getting so aggressive. "You have no social life, and you do not need rest to remain in your top condition. The kyuubii within you ensures both the former and the latter, and that even grievous physical injury is recovered in minutes or at most a few hours after you've received it without so much as a scar. Simple fatigue isn't an impediment to your performance in any fashion, in that our medic nin have ever been able to determine you've never actually BEEN fatigued."

"I am tired, _Ataru_." The ANBU in the room stiffen in outrage at the magnitude of disrespect in my voice and words, but I don't give a damn right now. "I am a citizen of Konoha and I refuse to be treated as anything less than a person."

Ataru's next words light a white hot fire in my head and my mind; were the kyuubii still around this would be a perfect opportunity for her to take over. But the Kyuubii is gone, now, and that's a small tidbit I never shared with Hokage or Council alike. I never really knew why I didn't tell them; maybe simply because nobody ever asked. But for some obscure reason I'm glad of it now. "All of those who were foolish enough to forget your true nature are dead now because of it. You're not a person, you're a jinx, a living incarnation of bad luck and trouble, and you bring death and suffering and destruction to anything which you spend more than casual acquaintence. The only survivors of those you've called friend in the past are the disillusioned remnants who recognized the nature of your existance and distanced themselves from you before your touch could destroy them as well. But since the Sandaime Hokage so foolishly saw fit to grant upon you the title and skills of a shinobi and increased the power with which you might wreak havoc, my only recourse is send you out of the village as often as possible, so the people of Konoha might at least gain through aiming you at those who already need killing."

I am torn for several long seconds as his words echo in my mind. Despite my boiling rage a large portion of me agrees with him; it's what my life has demonstrated time and again... except for Tsubasa.

My life has been like this because nobody ever showed me I had a choice. Nobody showed me that I could act to prevent, and Ataru doesn't even seem to understand that fact.

I won't let myself fall back into that grey hell, moving day to day on his instructions until time or probability finally catches up to me.

I won't go softly into that dark night.

He's still talking as I form my resolve. "-so you WILL be working today, as you will every day I order you to, and there will be no more of this idiocy in the future."

I stand up myself, and my relaxed voice is made a lie by the posture of my body and the meaning of my words. "Fuck you. I'm taking the day off. You and anyone else you like may attempt to stop me as you like. If you want, you may even declare me Nuke-nin. But as in the past, any shinobi who crosses weapons with me dies. I will see you tomorrow, Ataru. Provided, that is, that you don't do anything foolish."

I stalk out of the office without a look backwards. Nobody follows me.

--

The look on Tsubasa's face is rather horrified. "You did what?" She asks, an unbelieving shock lacing her words.

"I told him to fuck off, and that I was taking the day off." I reply. I'm stunned by it myself; I still can't believe it now that the adrenaline and anger has worn off. "I was- I AM- tired of being taken for granted. I haven't had a friend in so long I'd forgotten til I met you just what it's like for someone to be happy to see me. And it all just spilled out."

"Oh kami." She says, eyes wide and mortified. "I screwed up. I thought if I was your friend things might get better but I messed it up somehow and I've been a bad influence-"

"No!" I shout, and she jumps. I continue in a softer voice, sorry I startled her. "No. I did this, not you. And even if it's a mess now, it needed to happen, and he totally deserved it. It was my choice. Don't blame yourself."

Tsubasa still looks uncomfortable, so I shoot her my best grin, a grin like I haven't had since team seven. It's a grin that feels like cheer and optimism and my old certainty in the undying, deep down goodness of the world. I haven't had a reason to grin like this since Neji and Hinata died.

I know how contagious that grin is- I used it for years on my friends back in the old days. In seconds Tsubasa seems to have forgotten the Hokage and my missions as we sit down on the chairs in the living room while I start to pour out the tea. Our silence together is easy and companionable as we relax. Finally, I known back the last of my tea in one swig. "Well, let's go." I say.

"Go?" Tsubasa asks. "Go where?"

"We're going out." I say, standing up.

"We're going out? But I'm not ready for a boyfriend right now!" Tsubasa cries.

My brain screeches to a halt in confusion. "What? Hey, I didn't say that! I mean, I did, but we're not going out, I mean-"

"So I'm not GOOD enough to go out with, is THAT it?" She demands, suddenly pouting.

"N- What? No, of course you are, you're wonderful, but-" I start, but then the look in her eyes registers and I get it. She starts giggling as I give her a rueful pout of my own. "You're not very nice."

I wait with fading irritability as Tsubasa continues to giggle for a minute or so; by the time she's wound down I'm not even annoyed. "I finally understand why they do it- it's SO much fun."

"They? They who?" I ask, puzzled.

"Girls, duh! Other girls! I never knew teasing a guy could be so much fun!" She bubbles.

I feel a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach at this- Maybe I should reconsider this association, if this is the sort of thing she's going to do all the time.

"Stop it!" She says, looking at me with a mock severe expression on her face. "It isn't that bad. Besides, I want to know where we're going."

I shift gears abruptly at this. "Oh, yeah! Um, before we go, I gotta change."

"Change?" She asks me. "I thought you always wore whatever clothes they left for you in the apartment."

"No, not like that. Uh, brace yourself, okay?" I say, before I execute Henge no Jutsu.

--

Even before, I never did this very often, and after Sakura's wedding I stopped doing it altogether. Yet here I am now, with Tsubasa. I'm just a perfectly ordinary, unremarkable young man with mousey brown hair, glasses, and a flannel shirt. The people around me have no idea that their unwanted, yet most ardent defender is out here in their midst. Like this, nobody knows who I am- Just another young man out with a young lady enjoying a walk down the street.

I know about the ANBU behind us, of course. After my little confrontation with Ataru, I'd be surprised and a little alarmed if I HADN'T seen them. That would mean that there's someone here in Konoha who I can't see coming, and out here with Tsubasa that's just not a risk I'm willing to take. Not that I think they'lll attack me in broad daylight, or her at all, but the point is so long as they think SHE doesn't know who I am, she'll be safe.

I stop as I realize we're passing a flower shop. "Hey, Tsubasa, wait up. Stay here a second, alright?"

She blinks at me momentarily. "Alright, Naruto-kun." Her eyes take in the sign on the storefront before she smirks mysteriously. "And my favorite color is yellow- although orange is nice, too."

I grin at her and go inside.

The interior of the shop is color and shape, texture and scent. Flowers cover every surface in a riot of varicolored splendor. Yet somehow, it strikes me as both familiar and off at the same time, as though the person who set them all out knew all the mechanics of the array like their own heartbeat, yet somehow was only going through the motions.

Then my eye falls on the woman behind the counter and it all falls into place like a hammer from the sky.

Yamanaka Makoto. Ino's mother.

Now, not only a bereaved mother, but a widow as well.

It's pretty clear to me that she's not taking this well; dark circles ring her eyes as she listlessly arranges and rearranges the same cluster of flowers in a vase, not really seeing what she's doing, looking through the flowers, through the vase, looking through everything her eyes could possibly tell her as she watches what memories and thoughts are dominating her attention. Ino was an only child; Makoto, from what I'd heard so long ago from Ino, had left her family and everything she'd known behind in Kumogakure to come to Konoha with Inoichi. And now, with both of them gone, all she has left of them is this shop.

I'm frozen to the spot; I want to run, I want to hide, I want to throw myself at her feet in apology for everything I've cost her. Even if I never knew better, does that make me any less responsible for all that she's had taken from her?

She looks up suddenly and I realize my chance to escape has passed me by. I'm scattered, now, shaken, I'm a jumbled mess that can barely keep a neutral expression, much less think coherently. I was not expecting this and I'm still in shock. She fixes me with a gaze that seems to look through me like she was looking through her work from before. "How are you today sir." She says mechanically. "What were you looking for?"

I gulp uncomfortably. I want to be somewhere else, anywhere else, someplace where I don't have to see those broken eyes, but I know it's too late now. Here or out there or in my sleep tonight, I'm going to be seeing them for far longer than I have any choice in.

I manage to get out, "Uhm, I wanted to buy some flowers."

Yamanaka Makoto is a business woman- for all that her husband was renowned for his ability to read minds, she's the one who knew people and knew business and knew how to make them work together. She rallies herself a bit, and animation comes into her face as she gains a wan little smile that holds at least a little honesty in it. "I see. I may be able to help you. Who is it for?"

"Uh, a friend." I reply, swallowing hard. "She, uh, likes yellow." I look around at some of the arrangements and point at one that features a number of puffy yellow flowers arranged prominently around wisps of green stuff. "I was thinking maybe those." As I look at the flowers closely I discover that what I'd originally thought was puffy is in fact actually a lot of densely crinkled petals.

"Yellow carnations?" Makoto says in surprise. "Oh, goodness, no. Yellow carnations mean disdain. And you aren't a girl, so you shouldn't really be giving a girl carnations at all. Carnations are usually given from one woman to another." She adopts a thoughtful look that brings even more life back into her eyes, and I'm suddenly glad that my being here is distracting her from her thoughts- I'd give much more than this to alleviate her pain, at least a little. "Yellow really isn't the best color for flowers that you want to give to a girl- although she may not mind the color if she doesn't know the meaning."

I ponder everything I know about Tsubasa. She's smart- more than I am, I think, by a long distance. She's playful and mischievous. And she grew up on a ship. I don't suppose that she had a greenhouse there, but then again, she'd also been all over the world, and I know some flowers don't grow everywhere, so maybe she'd been through more than a few plant shipments? Would she have paid attention to trivia about her cargo?

I had to admit she probably would. She's like a sponge for little random bits of knowledge. And she's a lot more travelled than I am, even as a ninja who's been all over the five nations. I have the sinking feeling that she's probably even smarter and more learned than I could even guess; best to err on the side of caution. "Uh, I'll go with something smart. I mean, a flower that means something."

She favors me with a full smile, and the room brightens. It's a real smile, this one. "That's the right answer." She says. "You aren't just trying to butter her up, you care what it means. And I bet you care just as much what your words mean when you say them to her, don't you?" She gives a little laugh, one that is full of memory, but good memory. "That was why I ended up marrying my husband."

Something in my expression gives me away. Her eyes narrow as she looks at me closely. "You know who my husband was, don't you?"

I gulp and nod- I feel cornered and completely stripped of my mental defenses, so foolish honesty tumbles out of my mouth. "Yes, Yamanaka san. I knew Inoichi, and Ino as well."

The moment the words leave my mouth I know I fucked up big time. There are few among our current shinobi forces who can say they knew both of the Yamanaka shinobi. In fact, as of now, there's only three who can claim familiarity with both father and daughter: Nara Shikamaru... Haruno Sakura... And me.

Sakura stopped visiting after Ino died.

Shikamaru no longer lives in Konoha.

Oh fuck.

Makoto's face holds no smile, no cheer now. "I can... understand why you would not want to wear your own face. You have never been welcomed by any who live in Konoha."

She looks away from me, and the pain is back, but I stand and watch her because I owe her this much, to at least give her the say I owe her to listen to. "I know all that." She says. "I know you are not to blame. Not for the Kyuubii, not for my daughter or my husband. Ino chose to fight at your side. Inoichi chose to try to kill you. In neither case did you raise a hand to harm them- you even spoke for leniency for my husband... tried to save my daughter. I know all this."

As I watch, Makoto suddenly looks old, and fragile. The broken look has returned to her eyes, and I feel worse than I did when I first realized who she was. She drifts gracefully over to another counter, and her grace is the grace of one who takes the path of least resistance. She acts because she is a business woman and this is what she knows, and my heart bleeds as she reaches out to take a gold colored flower from a nearby vase. She slowly trims the stem down and sets the flower behind her ear, and the sight of her drawn, lined face framed by that brilliant flower makes her look all the more forlorn. "It's a marigold." She says, looking up at me. "Among other things, it means grief."

She pauses, and I wait. Then Makoto asks me, "This girl means a great deal to you."

"She's a good friend." I say, more out of a need to break the silence than anything else.

"That too." She says softly, and I wonder what she means. But she doesn't elaborate. Instead, she takes several yellow roses, and a few more roses of a stronger orange color, before garnishing them with clusters of tiny white, fragrant flowers. "A yellow rose given to a woman can mean either friendship- if from a man- or jealousy, from a woman. Orange roses mean attraction, as does the babies breath. All together it means you are attracted to her for the friendship she gives you. There's no charge. This is my gift to you." She finishes, as she hands me the wrapped bouquet.

I feel sick. I feel horrible. All that this woman has lost and she knows it is me, and yet she can still give something like this to me. A lump forms in my throat that I have trouble speaking past. "I can't-"

"Take it." She says, and pushes the bouquet at me.

"But-"

"Take it." She insists. "You have not... You don't deserve what this village has given you. Find happiness." She says, and though her voice is still strong and steady the tears are already streaming down her face as she does. "And I must give you this as well." She gives me an orange flower- it is beautiful, but I know that there is more to this than just a gift.

"What does it mean?" I ask her, dreading the answer.

Makoto looks at me through eyes streaming tears and I die inside a little. Her eyes are a welter of conflicting emotions. Regret, anger, sorrow, and... "An orange lily. It means hatred." She turns those eyes away from me, refuses to meet my gaze. "Because I know that you do not deserve any of it... but I cannot forget."

She turns her back on me. "Please leave me. And if you have any mercy, any pity in you... please do not come back."

All remnants of cheer are gone from me now, withered and cold, as I open the door to the shop and walk back into the street. The door jangles its bell as it swings shut, a cheery reminder of everything inside me that I hate right now.

Tsubasa is there waiting, and I remember that she is still cheerful, still happy. She has no idea. And I won't inflict this on her; I won't compound my sin. I see the ANBU watching from the rooftops and know it's too late- since they haven't chosen to speak to her then I have to keep an eye on her myself, have to stay near her to make sure nothing happens. If I get a hint that anything threatens her I'll destroy it, even if I have to go missing nin to do it. And I'll keep it as friends, until she's got friends of her own, then sort of drift away so that I can't contaminate her life. Because I realized something while I was in that shop.

I can be proactive, and through it, maybe prevent tragedy. But I can't allow anyone in close because there will always be people out there who will do anything to hurt me. And they'll do it through the people I know because they can't touch me directly.

Tsubasa's smile falters as she catches sight of me. "Naruto kun?" She asks. "Is... everything alright?"

I master my expression and nod, then hand her the bouquet. Distracted, she gasps, "It's gorgeous!"

I'm not looking at the bouquet, but instead at the flower in my hand. It IS gorgeous, too- and yet, I can somehow see why it would represent hate. Attraction and loathing all at once.

"Naruto kun?" Tsubasa says, and I look up at her suddenly. "What is- is that an orange lily? Who is it for?"

Who indeed? I tuck the flower carefully and almost reverently into my shirt pocket. "It's mine." I answer quietly. "Nobody else should have to take it."

Especially not you.

**End Chapter Five**

-AN: Longest chapter to date. It was difficult to write, and I hope that it conveyed to you, the reader, what I felt while writing it. I have very little else to write on the subject, so I will simply close with the usual.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


	6. Chapter Six: Narcissus

**Chapter Six: Narcisus**

**T**wenty.

Five groups of four, a pair of tens. Twenty equilateral triangles can be arrayed neatly into a more or less spherical object.

Tomorrow I will be twenty years old- and I don't know how I feel about it.

Tsubasa has been in my life for exactly one year as of today, and despite my attempts to cut myself off from her, I can't. I can't even bring myself to try. The idea of no longer being around her makes my chest tighten and my heart burn like I'm being roasted alive.

Ataru has insisted, ever since my first day off about three months ago, that I receive at least one day to myself every two weeks. More at his discretion. Since tomorrow is my birthday, he's making me take today and tomorrow both off.

I've noticed that he scratches, rubs, chews a lot faster now. But the other day, when he didn't think I was looking, I saw him smile at me.

In my apartment, sunlight is streaming through the windows to shine onto the floor of my bedroom. The bed itself is made and neat. The room is clean, and my clothes all washed and pressed.

But I am not in it.

I am here, smelling the evaporating morning dew as I look at the memorial stone.

Sunlight shines down here on the grass, their blades casting long shadows across the concrete base on which the memorial stone rests, the same sunlight that shines in my room, that shines on the Hokage monument, that shines in Kumo, and Suna, and Kusa, and everywhere else. It makes me wonder sometimes, what our lands and struggles must look like from so high up, like scurrying ants. Even the power of the long dead Kyuubii is nothing next to the sun who casually and unthinkingly shines its light down on us.

I take a few steps forward, up the steps leading to the memorial stone. It has been daylight for barely an hour, but it's already hot with the onset of summer.

For a few minutes I simply stare at the memorial stone, remembering an early summer day muchy like this one, seven years ago, when Kakashi ,and Sasuke, and Sakura, and I, all of us stood here. Back when we first looked at it with Kakashi, who stood there with his hand out, lightly touching the engraved stone surface.

Much as I find myself doing now.

My fingers hesitate as they pass over the name Hatake Kakashi.

Sarutobi Asuma. Yamanaka Ino. Sarutobi Konohamaru. Tenten no Konoha.

Names. So many names here that have meaning to me, whose faces flash in my mind as my fingers touch their engraving.

Choji, eating barbecue pork. Lee, doing laps around the village, encouraging me to join him, handing me one of his protein bars as I do so. Iruka sensei, eating ramen next to me at Ichiraku's. Anko eating dango the morning after a mission, flicking the sticks at me as I tease her about the hangover. A lot of my best memories of my friends are simply sharing a meal, breaking bread together as comrades.

"You're here again," says a voice that has become both familiar and very dear to me.

I turn to face Tsubasa, my heart warming from her gentle smile, a smile that brightens my morning as it has brightened my life. "Yes."

"Remembering your friends?"

I simply nod, then half turn, looking back at the stone. "I think I understand Kakashi sensei, now. What he must have felt, looking at team seven back then. We had no clue- but he knew. He'd known all along what we were in for. And if he'd told us, we wouldn't have gotten it. For years I wondered why he never hooked up with that Rin lady, who had been on his team... but now, after Sakura, I think I get it."

Tsubasa takes several steps forward. "I know you miss them. And I'm so very sorry that they're gone. Because all the people who knew you for who you are believed in you, and I understand why. The others who are afraid to know you in this village, they don't understand because they're caught behind their own fear, having seen so many die near you, yet not realizing that those people died for someone they believed in, that they loved." She continues walking forward, slowly, each step precise and certain. In her approach I almost find it hard to believe she was never a shinobi, her walk is so smooth. "And I know, I know!- that they loved you. Because I don't see how it is possible for anyone to know you and not love you."

My mouth is suddenly dry. I lick my lips nervously, not knowing what to say. "Tsubasa chan-"

Her finger comes up and touches my lips- when did she get so close? "No more, Naruto kun." She says. Tsubasa is closer to me than she's ever been, we've been fast friends now for months, we hang out almost every time I'm home. If it were anyone else I'd be uncomfortable, nervous- and I realize I AM a little of both, but somehow, not in a bad way- and that scares me.

I'm looking into her eyes, now, from less than two feet. Those bright green eyes that bring to mind fresh summer leaves, and I can smell that scent of grass that is her mixed in with the vanilla she always wears.

"Naruto..." she says softly, and this close, the breath of her words brushes across my cheek, my heart hammering in my chest. "Do you ever feel like part of you is missing... and when you see someone you feel like you've found what was missing all this time?" She swallows, and continues, "A part of you that you didn't even know when or how it left, but it doesn't really matter because you finally found it again, and you'll say anything, do anything, just so you can keep it with you?"

I don't have any words that can answer this so I don't say anything. I'm light headed at Tsubasa's nearness. My heart threatens to beats its way out of my chest and it feels like I'm hot and cold all over all at the same time. I'm trembling and I don't know why but I feel like I have to say something but only one thing is on my mind. "Tsubasa..."

She has a hand on my chest- I don't know when she put it there. Her eyes are half closed and she tilts her face to the side as I find myself leaning down.

I feel her sigh on my skin and then our lips touch and stars explode.

**S**unlight streams in the window. The carpetting reflects the light to hit the walls, and the whole room is suffused in an orange glow. I am already awake, and I stare at the ceiling wondering what I should do now.

My right hand rests between the back of my head and the pillow; my other hand is out of commission, held down by the slight weight of the beautiful, naked woman next to me.

Last night was... amazing. I've never felt anything like it. It was clumsy and uncertain, and parts of it were uncomfortable for one or both of us. The act itself was at best mediocre, only hinting that there could be something much more wonderful waiting for us if we looked for it, and yet, the afterwards- that was the part which was so incredible. The tenderness I felt for Tsubasa, as we lay together, her watching me with those brilliant green eyes, the most honest, open, unguarded expression I've ever seen in them. My hand comes out from behind my head and rests on my chest as I turn my head to watch her again, now, as she sleeps. Her mouth is open slightly and her breathing is something louder than a whisper but softer than a snore.

I'm trapped, now. I could never let her drift away from me, not after this. She's a target and I can't bear the thought of her being hurt but at the same time I can't bear the idea of her not being in my life.

I can't bring myself to feel sorry about it though.

The sensation on my shoulder suddenly makes itself apparent to me as I realize she's drooling on me. I'm not sure whether to laugh or be grossed out, but in the end I do neither because she looks so peaceful as she sleeps that I don't want to wake her.

I'm going to have to at some point, though. May as well be with breakfast. Carefully, I form the seal one handed, and create a Kage-bunshin, giving him a short nod, which he reciprocates. It won't be long before I smell the pancakes cooking, and I reflect on the changes Tsubasa has made in my life. Before, I just drifted, letting life happen to me...

... Now, I feel truly alive. I feel complete.

The smell of pancake is stronger, now, and maple syrup and butter over it as well.

The door to my room- OUR room, if she will have me- opens, and my close stands there holding a tray with a couple plates, utensils, some glasses, and a caraffe of orange juice. That smoky, maple cured bacon there, too. He sets the tray down, and I look over at my waking Tsubasa. Her green, sleepy eyes blink slowly as she smiles at me.

Then everything goes horribly wrong as my clone dispels and for a flickering moment her eyes flash blue.

Oh kami above. No.

She sits stock upright, flinching as shee sees in my eyes that I saw her eyes and now she knows I know. My joyful mood is shattered and my stomach is a frozen lump inside of me and I feel sick. I know the truth that she's been hiding from me for this past year and more, how long exactly only she can tell me.

Because when a kage bunshin dispels, its memories and chakra returns to the person who created it and every clone that is currently active, and that flickering surge of chakra always slightly interferes with any Henge you or the clones have up. And this is now by far my worst experience with the Kage bunshin because somehow I've fallen in love with myself.

When she stood there by the memorial stone, and her fingers touched on Kakashi's name. How she knew my favorite treat was chocolate chip cookies. The orange flower she left me. When she was teasing me, and said she knew why they did it. THEY did it... girls. Then corrected herself and said, other girls. How she "messed up" and was a bad influence on me when I blew up at Ataru. All this and a thousand other little things that I ignored, didn't want to see. Because I was deceiving myself. Twice. I suddenly can't bear to look at her, and instead stare off out the window as I ask, "When."

When did this particular kage bunshin become manifest.

"Four years ago. Pein."

Forbidden jutsu, the Kage bunshin is. And it is so, for a number of reasons.

The clone has its own mind, more or less a carbon copy of the mind of the ninja who creates it. That clone has the same feelings, same memories, same mannerisms of the original. It knows it is a clone, and will sacrifice itself for the original, but it is also capable of making choices. Including sometimes, the ability to choose not to dispel when the originator calls for it, should the clone learn something it knows the original would change orders over.

Obviously this clone learned something when it was made that would invalidate my command to disperse. Any other use of the Kage bunshin would notice almost immediately that their chakra reserve was far lower than it should have been, but I can split my chakra a thousand ways and hardly notice.

"Why." I ask.

Tsubasa... no, my clone- Argh, a million conflicting emotions, it feels like she's dead and I hate myself for not being able to let it go.

"I had to follow the other Akatsuki members. There were six of them left after Pein and Madara. I was the only one to see all of their real faces; but I had to know which way they went or else they'd have gone to ground by the time you got another clone out there. So I built a network. Like Jiraiya taught you. I trailed specifically after Zetsu for weeks before I finally got anonymous word through the network back to Konoha. I stayed in this form because I didn't dare give away any chakrea use, and finally I encountered his rendezvous point with the others- the one for their real bodies. It took me years but I nailed down every one of those bastard's locations and got the information back here so that you could kill them off, that's how the village kept finding them one by one, until I had everything set up so that the moment one of them stopped running, you could be called in to hit them like a lightning bolt. I spent time and effort to space them out, never letting them know they werer being followed, never using the same ploy to reveal one of them twice. I finished setting it all up, a year and a half ago, and I tried to release."

The longest I'd ever had a rogue clone before was seven weeks. The longer they lasted, the more likely they started behaving... odd. "What happened?" I ask.

"I... couldn't." She- it answers. "I've been out too long. The chakra body is long gone. I've eaten, I've drank, I've slept. I've aged." The clone looks at its hands. "I got desperate. I cut myself to try to force a dispel, but I had to stop- it hurt. I had real flesh, real bones. My blood didn't fade way after a few minutes, either. It stayed, it dried out. Stained a perfectly good end table. It scared me."

"So what happened then?" I ask. I feel a surge of wild, senseless hope.

"I did the only thing I could think of- I came home." She- no, it? but the clone isn't just a clone anymore, it's real now... so... she's real? I don't know anymore, but she continues, "After all that time as a flesh and blood woman I felt... wrong about being a male again. And I couldn't go around looking like you anyways, and this shape and yours are the two I know best. I wanted to live a normal life, and I thought maybe I could make friends with myself, with you, but I ran into you in the hall and you were naked and I was afraid that you'd turned into some kind of pervert. But then I had time to think about it and I came up with a cover story."

I'm confused and she's rambling and close to tears. And I forget myself and hold her as she starts crying. "And then I got to know you from the outside instead of the inside and I couldn't get enough of you, and I knew it was crazy but I couldn't help it I had to be near you."

Then her crying intensifies. Yes, she, her, Tsubasa, isn't me anymore, I know this, and she hasn't been me since long before I met her. I don't know what to do so I hold her and comfort her and we sit there on the bed, breakfast forgotten for a long time.

We eat the pancakes together, now long cold and a little rubbery, in the thick syrup my clone poured over it, between bites of bacon. After we finish, I say, "So what do we do now?"

Tsubasa says in a small voice, "It can't... it'll never be the same for us, will it?"

I give a half laugh, half sob. "How can it?" I ask. "I never would have wanted to know this. I wish today had never happened."

Tsubasa's head snaps toward me, and I wonder if I've said something brilliant or incredibly stupid. She stares at me for a long minute, before she says, "Are you... do you really mean that?"

"I- yes. Yes I do." I say. "Do you kn ow- did you learn a way to turn back time out there?"

"Not time." Tsubasa replies. "Memories."

I don't hesitate. "Tell me more."

**I** make my way to the Hokage tower. My head is foggy- I guess I'm still loggy from the... activities Tsubasa and I shared last night. And yesterday afternoon. And yesterday morning after she made breakfast in bed for us.

And this morning. And shortly before I left.

It gets a lot better with practice.

Tsubasa's face flits across my mind and for a moment I feel like I'm forgetting something. Then I open the door to the Hokage's office, amd I see him sitting there, looking at me from behind his desk. "You look disgustingly cheerful," he mutters as he pulls out a cigarette and disposable lighter, his left thumb flicking the wheel while he holds the smoke between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, then immediately takes a long pull from the cancer stick. He holds the breath for a second, before exhaling through his nose in a long, nicotine ridden stream of smoke. "I hope you're happy. You made me start smoking again."

I think back over the last twenty four hours- hell, the entire last year. Tsubasa singing in the hall, Tsubasa dancing in the mid summer festival. Choclate chip cookies. "Yes, at last. For the first time in my life, I'm happy, but not about your smoking, Ataru." I say. "I know that the last year I've been very... odd. But I've been going through a lot and there've been some changes in my life."

Ataru gives me an odd look, before he pulls the cigarette from his lips and gives it a hard stare. He sets the cigarette on the ashtray and looks back at me. "What sort of changes?"

I meet Ataru's gaze and can't help but laugh. "Ataru, you're taking the rest of the day off, and coming with me. We're going to go out and I'm gonna buy you a drink or ten while I tell you about your predecessor."

**T**wenty two.

Two times eleven. Twenty two marbles can be arrayed into the shape of a spear head.

One more than three times seven.

Twenty two.

Tomorrow, I will be twenty two.

Two things will happen tomorrow- or rather, one will happen tomorrow, and sometime after that, Ataru will officially step down as Rokudaime hokage, and I will be sworn in as Shichidaime.

I owe it all to Tsubasa. Everyone loves her- and through her, people have learned to accept me as well. And tomorrow she is giving me the greatest gift she has ever given me: my first born child.

We wanted it to be a surprise- if it's a girl, we're naming her Tsunade, and if it's a boy, Kakashi. She insists that I get to name the first, and she'll name the second, then I'll go again with the third, and so on.

She can name them all. I'd never begrudge her anything that she wants.

Sakura and I are friends again- after divorcing her husband six months ago she came and apologized to me for letting her husband shut me out of her life. She says I deserved better than that.

I know better. I'm luckier than any man has any right to be. Tsubasa is everything I could ever hope for, need, or want. She is part of me and I like to think that I am part of her.

Two halves of a whole that fit seamlessly together, now, and hopefully always.

Tsubasa, I love you.

**Ending One**

-AN: I've let this story sit on hold for more than a year, as I first wrestled with my endings, then tried for ten months to find the notebook it was all written in. I've finally found it, and finally come to grips with the fact that yes, it's creepy as hell and even more depressing, but the ending of the story IS what it IS. And I should not second guess the story for being so... whatever it is.

This is one ending... but the second ending is also true, and makes the first ending- hell, the entire story- more horrifying and depressing than even this. Because the second ending is a kind of epilogue.

But that is a story for another time.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


	7. Epilogue: Endymion

Epilogue: Endymion

**-Note- The phrases in italics are the first stanza of the poem Endymion, which was the inspiration for Somebody to Love. The poem itself was written by John Keats, first published in 1818. **

_**A**__ thing of beauty is a joy forever: _

_It's loveliness increases; it will never..._

I am immortal. I cannot die, not even at my own hands.

I know, because I have tried.

_**P**__ass into nothingness; but still will keep_

_A bower quiet for us, and a sleep_

It is always small at first, and my subconscious mind shies away from it for a small while, but then memories of the lost begin to stack up, leaking past the gatekeeper. Small snippets of recollection that enter my mind of things I shouldn't have known.

_**F**__ull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. _

_Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing_

And always, because I was a ninja, my suspicion comes into play, my evil, errant suspicion, even on those times where I've made it so that I've received next to no training at all. And my path crosses that of the gatekeeper, and I start demanding to know why I am being deceived, and moments later as the clone pops, I curse myself for learning.

I am accursed.

_**A**__ flowery band to bind us to the earth, _

_Spite of despondence, of inhuman dearth_

Six hundred years. Then I went mad.

Then two thousand. I forced myself to sanity.

I've lost exact count, but I suspect that now it is almost ten thousand. Ten thousand years.

_**O**__f noble natures, of the gloomy days_

_Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways:_

One hundred centuries of dreaming, of trying to pick up my life where it left off when everything went wrong.

Konoha has been gone for thousands of years, destroyed by my own hands sometime during my year of delusion as I wrestled for control of my body and soul against the Kyuubii.

I finally won the battle- only to learn I had lost the war, as my rampage during that year had extinguished the lives of every soul in the five elemental nations.

_**M**__ade for our searching: yes, in spite of all, _

_Some shape of beauty moves away the pall_

Learning that in destroying and consuming the last essences of the Kyuubii I had become immortal. A living Kami on the earth, one that has spent all but countless centuries trying to forget, trying with clones and illusions to live again in the world I lost. Trying desperately to feel the wonder and joy of mortality and limitations.

_**F**__rom our dark spirits. Such the Sun, the Moon,_

_Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon_

I cast my gaze around the barren, desolate wasteland. The earth is cracked and dry. What dead plants managed to remain in their skeletal glory after that year or so of destruction I wrought so many years ago have long and long since weathered away into dust. All that remains is the dead earth; even water itself is long since swept away.

_**F**__or simple sheep; and such are daffodils_

_With the green world they live in; and clear rills_

I spend six months, roughly, recreating all the shadow clones. Giving them the knowledge they will need, and sweeping clear their memories of all else, the roles they will play in my lost world. Kumo nin, and simple farmers, and merchants, and birds, and trees, and everything.

I swore once, as a child, that I would be Hokage, and there I am. One of me. And another that will be Hokage after me, and a third who will be Hokage after me again.

_**T**__hat for themselves a cooling covert make_

_'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,_

Piece by piece my clones work, like ants once did, rebuilding the Forest, and training ground forty four, and Konoha itself, until shaped from mud and clay, held together by chakra, the bricks of my city did stand. And elsewhere in the lands that were once the Elemental nations, my clones work. I look up at the sky, a moment, and see the sun, where it shines, and marvel in my dreaming that I had thought it so awesome.

It grants incredible light and heat, from so far away, but to an immortal of infinite power? I might well be able to craft another one should I so desire.

_**R**__ich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms;_

_And such too is the grandeur of the dooms_

And I consider to myself, examining a cluster of roses I have made, what story I should dream of next, whether it be of my long dead history, or perhaps I will craft myself a change. Perhaps the villain of this dream should not be Orochimaru, trifling little nothing that he was, but perhaps in my wanderings I'll make the enemy the very trees of the forest itself.

Perhaps my world, I'll change it completely, and examine my world from the perspective of a high school. Populate it with those lost friends and aqcuaintances, the dreamings of a thousand more lifetimes whose tales some distant writers in other places believe they are creating, when in truth they merely watch from the vistas of their minds and record the tales they witness for others to experience as they themselves have.

_**W**__e have imagined for the mighty dead; _

_All lovely tales that we have heard or read:_

All is set once again, and I have made up my mind: I rewind my memory to the day all hell broke loose, when Kyuubii surprised me after her long dormancy, in the middle of Sakura-chan's wedding, having gathered her remaining strength to take her last desperate chance at freedom. An event that, as in every scenario I enact, will not happen.

On a spur of the moment, as I did the last time, I rewind it another nine hours further back.

I close my eyes.

**I** open my eyes from my blink and stare at my ceiling, feeling empty inside.

Nineteen.

One less than twenty. Nineteen is a prime number. Nineteen marbles can be arrayed into a clean hexagon.

Nineteen, a year older than eighteen.

Tomorrow, I, Uzumaki Naruto, will be nineteen.

Tomorrow morning is a happy occasion. But not for me. Tomorrow morning marks the end of an era.

As of tomorrow morning, Haruno Sakura is getting married.

As of tomorrow morning, I will once again be alone.

_**A**__n endless fountain of immortal drink, _

_Pouring into us from the heaven's brink._

The final end.

-AN: The epilogue of Somebody to Love underscored for me how pointless the depressingly poignant "happy ending" for Naruto really was. It is, to me, a portrait of what Naruto fanfiction actually is, the dreamings of an immortal god who spends eternity trying to forget his immortality and what it cost him, by pretending that it never happened. One of those, "God created the universe so that he could have friends" kind of deals.

This is the end of Somebody to Love, and I found it wrenching to write, but very rewarding. I hope that you have enjoyed this story as it has been written and look forward to seeing you all again some time, speaking to you all again from the text of another tale.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


End file.
